Love of money, part II

Apologies to those who don't want to read about money :) it's been on my mind a lot the past few months as I have set out on giving up a high-paying job for completely uncertain (from a human standpoint) financial prospects.

Dave Ramsey says “money is amoral.”  And he quotes the famous verse about “love of money.”  It's interesting that any time someone quotes that verse, and emphasizes the fact that it's not "money" but the "love of money" that is a root of all evil, their intent is to anesthetize us to money's power over us.  The intent is never to put out a bold challenge as to whether we should value money at all but to assuage our consciences so that the acquisitiveness, the lust for possessions (or bargains?) doesn't come under close scrutiny.  We can then tell ourselves -- very likely deceive ourselves -- into thinking that we don't love money and therefore are safe.

But I believe Ramsey is misguided: money does in fact exert a power, and it seems to me that it is toward addiction, toward more, toward the values of the world.  Richard Foster's brilliant work Money, Sex, and Power (republished with the sanitized title of Challenge of the Disciplined Life) states this outright.  Money does not just lay around.  It preys on my mind and worms its way into my soul.

Think of it this way: how much of my time do I spend making money?  If I work a "regular" full-time job, I spend 40 hours (one-fourth of my weekly allotment) making money.  Add to that the time I spend shopping, financial planning, tracking my finances, and caring for the stuff I have spent my money on.  Likely I'm spending about 100 hours a week on money and its accoutrements.  And I'm always thinking about what comes next.  What's the next thing we should buy when we have the money?  When I get my tax return, what will I spend that on?  If I get a bonus, or have a month with three paychecks, what will I do with that money?  My impulses, my thoughts, and my emotions are all tied up with money.

That doesn't sound amoral to me.

Foster's solution is to fight the power of money by intentionally and freely giving it away.  Not so much by planned giving, but by treating money with disdain, with contempt.  I'm reading a biography of John D Rockefeller, in his time the richest man in the world.  Into his 50s, he personally read or talked with every person who wanted some of his money.  He was very thoughtful and (one gets the impression from the biography) prayerful about where God wanted him to use his wealth.

That's admirable.  And we like to think that's what we do.  We don't want to waste our money.  We call that "bad stewardship."  As though giving money to a panhandler who might use it on alcohol is worse stewardship than spending 10 percent of my income on buying a big-screen TV and cable and cell phone bills.

"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and dust destroy and thieves break in and steal." (Matthew 6.19)  As I look at my own house, my own life, I sure see a lot of stuff that I've spent my money on, that moth and rust can (and do) destroy.  Wouldn't it be better to "freely receive, freely give"?  Or to "give to the one who asks you" without thinking of how it might be used?

Of course, stewardship comes into play.

Notice what I just did?  This whole blog was wending toward hard, significant challenges, and instinctively I typed a line that undercut the whole argument.  For just a second, we all felt safe again, didn't we?

Why is it so important for us to feel safe about our spiritual and moral and social selves when it comes to money?  Could it be that we recognize the hold money has on us?

Which God do I serve? The Lord, or money?

One of the most interesting facets of my movement away from my well-paying job into directing and co-directing two different nonprofits is the uncertainty of income.

You'll note I didn't say the absence of income.  I am quite confident that we will have income sufficient to cover our needs.  I am, however, uncertain where it will come from.

I had many conversations with people from my old job, from church, through the nonprofits where I serve on the board, from my contacts in the community, my neighbors, and my family.  Everyone I talk with, it seems, has one central question: how will you pay your bills?  (Closely followed by: what about health insurance?  That's another blog post for another day.)

My answer is as simple as it is hard.  I believe the Lord will provide to pay the bills.  If indeed he has called me, called us as a couple and a family, to do what we are setting out to do, then how could I do otherwise than to trust him?  I'm reminded of Psalm 20.7: "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God."  In my early 20s I trusted this way, but somehow over the past 15 years that seems to have changed.  Now I'm getting back to it.

Many don't believe me about security and trusting.  But I recently, on many folks' recommendations, started listening to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University talks.  There is much sense in there, I agree ... but to me, it sure seems like human wisdom and not God's plan.  Let me briefly explain.

Ramsey talks about saving to create "financial security."  How is this different from trusting in horses and chariots?  Am I really to save money so that I will be secure?  And how much money is "security"?  As John D Rockefeller once famously said when asked how much was enough: "Just a little more."  No amount of money is ever enough; there is always something more we want, something more we want to do.  And even if we could reach a set amount ($5k? $10k? $1m?) where are we going to draw that definition?  Shouldn't we be going to Jesus to see what he would have us do with our money?

I'm not saying saving is a bad idea, but when I save so that I have "security" I make it a human, Pharisaic rule.  Does want me to be "secure" in my finances, or in his provision?  Does he really ask me to "build wealth"?  To "pay myself first"?  Is it more important for me to own my own home, for me to have $5k in the bank ... or is it more important to use all I have so that others might have food, water, clothing, shelter, opportunity?

I'll continue to process this topic over time.  I currently think and speak like only a black-and-white new convert can.  I have thoughts of selling all I have and giving it all to the poor, trusting in God to provide for my needs in the future.  Are we all called to do that?  No, I suppose not ... but I bet some of us are.  And I bet many others of us are called to take in, to provide for, those who do.

Where is your security today?  In your possessions?  Your bank account?  Your job, which provides that income and (likely) insurance?  Or are you trusting in the Lord to take care of things regardless of your job, income, housing, and bank statuses?  May we learn better how to follow the one true God.